Page 12 of Tucker

“Sugar?”

He looked around as if he weren’t sure, then finally located a sugar bowl in another cabinet.

“Where is the dog?”

“Well.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Kady noticed that he kept his injured arm folded close to his body.

“Well?” She sipped her coffee. It was awful. Clearly, domesticity was not his forte.

“I tried putting her in the kitchen last night, but she didn’t want to stay there.”

Slowly, Kady lowered her cup. “You didn’t let her back outside...?”

Leveling a look on her, Tucker said, “You know I wouldn’t.”

She let out a breath. “No, you wouldn’t.” Silly of her to think so for even a second. Tucker was a gentle, caring, protective man. She wouldn’t care so much about him otherwise. “So where did you put her?”

“Sheputherselfin my bedroom—one pup at a time. And no matter how I tried, I couldn’t dissuade her.” He grinned, shook his head and looked toward the hall. “That poor girl was hell-bent on sharing with me. I guess I should be grateful they’re under my bed and not on it.”

Kady couldn’t wait to see them, but first... She sidled closer. “You didn’t get any sleep?”

He backstepped. “Not much, but it’s fine. I have a short day.”

“Me, too. And I want to help you.”

His eyes narrowed with wary suspicion. “Help me?”

“With the dog, or your shoulder, or whatever.” She closed the space again and reached out to touch his chest. He felt warm through the shirt, firm, and she spread her fingers a little.

“Kady...”

Softly, she said, “I keep remembering that kiss.”

His voice went rough. “You shouldn’t.”

She looked up at him, and was a goner. Dark lashes shaded those vivid green eyes. His strong jaw flexed, and his lips firmed.

She leaned into him, whispering, “Tucker?”

His nostrils flared, he bent closer—and then suddenly he jerked away, turning his back to her, his posture rigid.

That rejection felt like a blow, but damn it, she wouldn’t let him know. Kady gripped the counter, took a breath, ordered her thoughts and tried to drum up her patented, sunny smile.

“You mentioned a lack of kisses.”

Unsure she’d heard him correctly, she stared at his back. His voice had sounded like gravel, and when he looked at her over his shoulder, she saw color high on his cheekbones.

“What?”

He waved his right hand. “You said you haven’t been kissed that often. I thought about it last night—”

Oh, yay!

“—and then I started wondering...” His voice faded, and he gave her a frown.

He rarely frowned like that, so she took the show of emotion as a good sign. “Yes?”

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